


These Foolish Pages

by rufusrant



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: #SaveShadowhunters, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe, Angst, Class Differences, Eventual Relationships, Gen, Great Depression, Insecurity, M/M, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Malec, Mundane!AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 11:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/pseuds/rufusrant
Summary: All seems bleak during the Great Depression until Alec and his siblings are hired to work for New York's most famous writer, Magnus Bane.- Where Alec starts work as Magnus' cook, and Magnus finds a striking inspiration in Alec. -





	1. Chapter 1

After Black Thursday and the economic drop that cost all three older siblings their jobs, Max had to be taken out of school because they simply could not afford the tuition fees anymore. Izzy tried her best to teach him herself, while Alec and Jace scavenged for odd jobs and food, taking from restaurant alleyway crates and from the rich people’s plates whenever they worked in kitchens. New York was on the fritz, and the Great Depression had squashed the blue from the skies.

++

The Lightwood siblings lived in a cramped flat with walls plastered with grey and grime, no matter how hard they scrubbed at it. The air dusty, quiet and dead, occasionally sounds of people screaming and bottles smashing against the wall. They would cover Max with the blankets and assure him that it would be over soon.

++

Jace took Max to the market whenever they wanted to have meat or eggs- kind shopgirls would gasp at Max’s thin arms and quickly slip a few ribs or half a chicken into Jace’s basket. But now it was proving harder and harder to do so, as nearly everybody on the street soon had the same idea, and the stallholders were now watching their shopgirls like hawks.

The four of them sipped soup out of the pot, until it was all gone. Max had the last sip, and sometimes he cried horribly out of gratitude, but he would chug it all down and kiss all three of his siblings on the cheek. It was a relief- Max was probably the least miserable person in their entire building.

++

The landlord, a fairly miserable drunkard who took a tad too much interest in Izzy, went out of his way to bully Alec, partly because he was the eldest and wouldn’t let his lovely sister come out whenever he darkened their doorstep. Their rent increased out of the blue, and a week’s eviction notice was taped to the door when Alec couldn’t comply. Thus they sold their dead parents’ things- but Maryse’s gaudy baubles and Robert’s old books could only fetch so much. Alec shoved their table against the door every night to bar him out.

++

“Are you firing us?” Jace’s voice shakes. Alec doesn’t speak, but his eyes are wide. Their manager wrings her hands.

“I’m firing everybody, including myself,” she says. “I’m closing the Jade Wolf down. We’re in too much debt, we can barely afford ingredients-”

Alec is already removing his apron, gaze fixed on the floor. The angry eviction notice flashes in his mind. He blinks hard to block out the noise of his heart and of Jace’s pleading.

 

_  _

 

Large piles of mail crowd Magnus’ writing desk, even though they have been neatly stacked. Magnus sighs as he draws the curtains open and sits down, barely reaching for the letter opener when there are prompt knocks on the study door.

Magnus sighs louder, but sits upright. “Come in!”

Simon, the butler, enters, yet another pile of envelopes in his hands, along with a paper-wrapped package. A copy of today’s newspaper is rolled under his arm, and Magnus sees his name splashed over the front page. He pinches the bridge of his nose quickly and tries to smile.

“Your fan mail-” announces Simon, placing the pile on an empty edge of the desk- “and fresh paper for the next book.” Magnus smiles sincerely, taking the package and placing it in a drawer. Now the work could really begin.

“Thank you, Simon. How is your mother?”

“She’s fine. She’s been reading your latest and she says, uh, she loves the ending.”

Magnus chuckles. “What a shame.”

“Why? Don’t you like your own writing?”

Magnus takes the letter opener and slits the nearest envelope open. “I think it’s gotten a bit… boring, for my own tastes.”

“But the critics are raving about it!” Simon persists, unrolling the newspaper. “See, it’s in the arts section the second time this week-”

“Oh.” Magnus says, voice considerably lower.

Simon clears his throat- “ _Magnus Bane’s newest novel is undoubtedly this year’s great masterpiece - tempting us towards the unknown, where material desires take the form of demons and are the true enemies of our human souls. With Bane’s flawless, haunting prose,_ Raveners _is an earth-shattering experience of-_ ”

Magnus doesn’t hear the rest.

_ _

“Penny for your thoughts." 

Magnus jerks his head up. Clary, the maid, smiles at him, a tray of biscuits and warm milk in her hands. 

"New book idea," says Magnus quickly, clearing some of the envelopes away for her to set the tray down. "I want to write something _new._ Something that feels like-" his eyes dart to the hot glass of milk- "like warmth."

"Haven't you already?"

"Not nearly enough. My latest was about greed and hatred and- you know."

Clary sets down the tray with a thump. "I thought it was good!"

"No!" Magnus' arms flail dramatically. Clary takes half a step back, still grinning. 

"So," she says, changing the subject, "What's the new book idea?"

Magnus stares at the package of paper in the open drawer, almost sadly. "I wish I knew."

Clary nods. Wordlessly, she places the plate and glass on the scarce space of the desk and picks up the tray.

"It'll come. And I suggest you take a walk outside- being cooped up in here all day is no fun; you're _imprisoning_ yourself, if I may."

Magnus snorts and pops a biscuit into his mouth. "How is Jocelyn?"

"Good," Clary's mother had been the cook ever since Magnus had bought his manor in Brooklyn, and an excellent cook at that, until she had retired last month. "She paints now. The doctor said it soothes her arthritis."

"Good to know." Magnus takes another biscuit with a sigh. "It'll be hard finding a new one. She's the only one who knows how I like my steak-"

"Why not? Breath of fresh air," Clary laughs. She turns to leave before Magnus can retaliate, and the study door closes shut. Magnus slumps in his chair, chin on the backs of his hands. The light casts shadows of the grille of the windows, cross-hatching darkly all over the bright European carpet. The room is a cage.

_You're imprisoning yourself._

Magnus sits upright and grabs a pen.

 

++

 

"I'll head to the market area tomorrow," says Alec, scrubbing at a greasy shirt in their sink. "It's a busy place and there's bound to be a spot open-"

Izzy hugs him from the side, her arms go under his and her face presses into his shoulder. Alec drops the soapy shirt, but doesn't hug her back because his hands are wet and sudsy and still covered in a thick layer of Jade Wolf's steam and disappointment. She hugs him long and tightly as their flat stays dark and warm under New York's moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole reason for this is because I am procrastinating on studying for literature. Haha


	2. Chapter 2

Magnus doesn’t appear at the table for breakfast, and the delivered baked goods grow cold. Simon combs the entire manor, but Magnus has disappeared without a trace.

“He actually took my advice for once!” says Clary, triumphantly polishing off a jam tart. “But I wish he would leave a note or something-“

“It’s not like he doesn’t do this all the time,” Simon corrects her, “Remember when he disappeared for a whole week and came back the owner of the Pandemonium?”

Clary laughs. “We thought he’d died!”

“Exactly! But I’m sure he’s fine.”

_ _

Magnus scowls to himself as he paces down the sweltering street. His sweat is smudging his carefully-outlined eyes and leaving a large damp patch on the back of his shirt.

He’d hoped to find something new to fill the sad stack of paper still lying in his drawer, but nothing new had hit him- still hounded by familiar, ready-made, secondhand thoughts that would not be fleshed out into anything useful. No story at all to tell, simply humiliating.

Smoke and chatter surround him, and when Magnus looks up he discovers that he is in a market. He’d frequented this particular one with Jocelyn before Clary had started working and started having all the foodstuff to be delivered to the manor. The market has changed- unfamiliar raw smells cloud the air, every surface Great Depression- shouts of the stallholders lacking fire and heart and simple dimmed colour.

Magnus blinks, but nothing changes. People push past him, their baskets roughly made, and nothing behind their eyes. Two men, both carrying a crate of tomatoes, barely brush by him, but an apology is muttered regardless. Magnus turns and his breathing hitches.

The two men, one tall and dark, the other shorter and blond, move through the crowd effortlessly, and Magnus sees a new spark of something when he sees the eyes of the tall, dark one- a concentration that is simply _beautiful_ for reasons he can’t put into words, visible through his downcast look, but somehow drawing more words out of him.

Magnus turns on his heels and moves through the crowd, a little entranced. Tall, Dark and Handsome walks behind the blond, eyes not leaving his crate of tomatoes, yet Magnus knows that he is deep in thought about everything _but_ the produce- Tall, Dark and Handsome has eyes with a story to tell.

The two of them turn into an alleyway, just behind a backdoor- Magnus recognises it as Alicante’s, Pandemonium’s bitter rival- and they set their crates next to the water pipes, where other boxes of produce are stacked like children’s toy blocks, _Disgraceful, one step from falling into drain water-_

The blond pats Tall, Dark and Handsome on the shoulder and moves to steady the precariously placed crates of corn and cabbages. He lifts the topmost one easily and moves further down the alleyway. Tall, Dark and Handsome sweeps the next after him, and _oh gosh, he’s strong_ and _thank goodness_. Magnus stays resolute in his spot, obscured by passerby, eyes glittering.

Tall, Dark and Handsome is now back in front of his tomato crate, gazing at a juicy one in his hand. His eyes soften, and Magnus feels the air in his chest leaving him. The passerby dissolves.

Magnus waits for him to- what exactly? Take a bite? Lob it at the blond? Give it a little kiss? Magnus holds his breath, and is almost disappointed when he simply shakes his head and places the tomato smack dab back into the crate with the others. A shopgirl opens the back door and smiles at him as he hands her the crate. He doesn’t smile back, not even when she pays both him and the blond, even with a tip. His head is down as he thumbs the notes, eyes still soft, and the both of them vanish into another crowd.

_ _

Magnus sketches them on the back of an envelope and doesn’t hear Clary drop a tray of re-heated sandwiches on his desk, nor her mock scolding of him leaving without telling anybody. He sketches the blond’s profile easily, but his pencil stops after that. Magnus cannot bring himself to draw Tall, Dark and Handsome. Whatever his pencil produced was sure to be some dishonest reproduction, and it simply would not do.

_What’s your story? Soft eyes._

 

++

 

Jace shakes Alec awake when bits of light come through their windows, knees digging into his hip and sinking into bare mattress. Izzy is curled up with Max, her elbow on top of her head. Alec and Jace walk past her quietly and wash themselves in the sink. Alec scrubs at his teeth fiercely with a towel and he has slept in his best clothes, because Jace had convinced him that the market stallholders themselves were probably filthier anyways and didn’t care about what you wore, as long as you did as they said. Alec rubs at his sleeves self-consciously.

Jace pushes him to a vegetable stall first- “I’m friends with the assistant,” says Jace, chin high. The assistant is a girl who smiles at Jace toothily, and fetches her boss. The stallholder, annoyed and drunk, hires them on the spot after barely giving the both of them a glance over, and gestures to crates of produce all labelled with curly font. Probably a high-end restaurant. Alec turns to ask about wages, but the stallholder has already turned his back and strides out.

++

“Where is-” Alec looks down at the font on his crate- “A-Alicante?”

“You see the end of that street?” Jace points a quick finger to the bend across them, over the market’s crowd. “We turn there, then left, and it’s the first one you see.”

“How much are we getting paid for this?”

Jace hesitates. “We’re getting _paid._ ”

Alec sighs. “We’re getting evicted in six days.”

Jace doesn’t answer. He purses his lips. His gaze falls to the crate he’s carrying, and Alec wants to put an arm around him.

“Then let’s do the job and get fucking paid.” Jace says, voice determined. He sets off, moving easily through the sea of people. Alec follows, trying to muster whatever he had left inside. He keeps his head down, focusing on nothing but the tomatoes and Jace. He moves through the market crowd a little awkwardly at first, bumping  elbows and trying not to step on anybody’s feet, but he is soon keeping up with Jace. Everything disappears for a moment, the loud din of passerby and the stench of morning drink in stallholder’s breath included.

A slight brush of crate against a well-dressed man brings Alec back to the crowded market. “Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassed, and tightens his grip.

++

Alec’s mind wanders- Max sifting through Robert’s box of books, Izzy sitting on a stool in front of the sink, washing her hair, and the landlord’s disgusted look whenever he and Jace walked into the building, aprons covered with soy sauce. Sometimes, everything felt so surreal. Everything had dimmed so extremely fast, he’d barely even had time to blink. Alec then blinks once, twice, and Jace stops.

They are in another alleyway, vaguely familiar, and the signage over the first door matches the font on their crates. A deep, dirty drain is in front of it, and leaning over the gap are other crates of produce- the stallholder had probably drunkenly hired a whole lot of others to deliver to Alicante.  Alec scans for a good place to set the tomatoes down, and chooses next to the water pipes, with no more drain. Jace follows suit, and pats him on the back.

Alec meets his eyes, then nods at the messily stacked crates over the drain, one shift away from toppling. Jace nods in understanding. He reaches for the highest crate gingerly, and brings it further from the drain, deeper into the alleyway. Alec sees a comforting hint of a smile in Jace’s mouth.

They move the rest of the crates, until Jace insists on taking the last one. Alec stays back and wipes the sweat off his neck. Had it been this hot since morning? He’d been so surprised by their immediate employment and hung up on the eviction that he hadn’t even noticed. His hand moves absentmindedly and picks up one of the tomatoes.

Of course he is hungry- they had all been scrimping, living off cheap stale loaves and bits of pathetic cheese three times a day. The tomato is bulbous and beautiful in his hand, shiny under New York sun. Alec has an urge to shove it into his pocket, or even better, into his mouth, and _why not_ , it is fresh, it isn’t from a bin and it is _here-_

Alec shakes his head. Of course not. It was dishonest and somebody would surely notice. The Alicante staff would lose their heads. The stallholder would have _their_ heads. Alec drops the tomato back into the crate as Jace comes sauntering back.

The door opens and another shopgirl smiles at them, her grin even toothier than the one at the vegetable stall. Jace smiles back and they laugh as he cracks an inside joke, and she is still giggling as she counts the money that they will have to pay back to the stallholder.

“Wait wait wait!” she says, shaking a finger. She piles a few notes into both Jace and Alec’s hands’. “You’re not going without a little extra! Thank you!”

Jace blows her a kiss. Alec counts the tip- three dollars. Not bad. With Jace, and the wage they’ll receive from the stallholder, they wouldn’t have anything under six dollars. Enough for some decent bread and a _whole_ carton of milk, if they were lucky. This job could actually keep them _all_ from starving.

Now if only they weren’t being evicted-


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has been busy. And I have been on Twitter- heard that #SaveShadowhunters has 11M tweets as of now. 
> 
> Staying hopeful.

“Biscuit,” says Magnus, while Clary is laundering the sheets, “Does Jocelyn still visit the market?”

“Not really, I get most of her things delivered too.” Clary wipes her hands. “Why? Is there something you want from there? I can-”

 _Yes,_ Magnus almost says, but he shakes his head quickly. “Just… checking.”

Magnus turns and retreats through the back gate. Clary raises a discreet eyebrow before turning back to her chores.

\+ +

Alec and Jace have barely set off  when they spot Izzy running down the side of the street, still in her nightdress, one of their coats wrapped around her. Her eyes are wild and her hair is unbrushed and something is terribly wrong.

“Izzy!” Alec calls out, but she does not seem to have heard. She takes off in the opposite direction, head turning every few steps, as if to check if she was being followed.

 _“Izzy!”_ Jace runs after her, and Alec follows, trying his level best to keep his head in sight when they delve into crowded area again. The street is packed with sweat and people sleeping on the pavement. Izzy ducks down an alleyway and emerges out of another.

Alec and Jace make a beeline for the furthermost building, shoving and shouting apologies, and manage to catch Izzy just as she turns out of the alleyway. It takes a moment for her to realise that her brothers are there. Alec takes her flailing hand.

“What’s going on? Is someone following you?”

Jace inhales sharply. “Is it the landlord?”

“ _No no no,”_ Izzy cries, “Nobody’s following me, it’s just- I woke up-“

“Okay, _breathe,”_ says Alec calmly, his hand closing firmly around her fist. “What happened?”

“Max is missing.”

Alec’s heart skips a beat.

“ _What?_ How-”

“I was asleep, he must’ve woken before me- was he there when you got up?”

“Yeah,” Jace says breathlessly. “And when did _you_ get up?”

“About… I just did,” Izzy licks her lips. “And he wasn’t there, I looked around, even on the other floors, asked the neighbours but they all said they didn’t see him, and…”

Izzy blinks rapidly, crouching into herself, her eyes shell-shocked. Jace holds onto her shoulders, as if she would collapse.

“He can’t have gone far,” says Alec. His mouth is a worried line. “Let’s split up. We’ll meet back at home, okay?”

Izzy nods, nails digging into her own palm. Jace squeezes her shoulder comfortingly.

 

++

 

“Max!”

People turn their heads in confusion as Alec edges past. He rushes across streets and pavements, checking corners and behind shops. Several young children stare at him as they lean against the lamp posts.

Max’s old school comes into view. Alec grabs the iron gate that surrounds the playground and tries to catch his breath. His eyes scan for any sign of Max, but the whole building seemed to be empty. The entire area was abandoned, not a single soul in sight, unlike all the other times he’d been here. Many other children had had to leave school as well.

 _If I were Max, where would I go?_ Had he run away? Maybe he’d woken up, discovered him and Jace gone, and decided to find them? Alec lets out a deep sigh. He presses his head against the hot fence, and turns to his right.

There are short groves of trees lining a cut-off cobbled path- a visible fine line separated the ugly slabs of stone from a sleek black road, almost shiny. It is very neat because the fallen leaves are at its sides, as if someone swept it on a regular basis. Alec had seen it before, too, everytime he sent and picked up Max from school, but never in a light like this- the entire thing looks simply _magical_ . _A road to a different world and I want to see_ , Max had once said. Alec had promised that he’d take him for a stroll down there one day, but hadn’t done it yet.

Perhaps this was how Max stayed the least miserable sibling: by believing in magic.

Alec steps off the cobbled path.

_  _ +

 

There is a young boy against the wall of the back gate, half- hidden in a nest of bush and brown leaves. He notices Magnus first, eyeing his back curiously. The book he holds covers his mouth, and his wide eyes make him look like a woodland spy. Magnus smiles at him, and when he approaches he realises that the book in his hands is- _Raveners,_ of all things. Magnus tries very hard not to look surprised.

“Hi,” says the boy, as he turns the page.

“Hello,” Magnus says back. “How long have you been sitting here?”

The boy shrugs. The edges of his ankles are small and slightly sooty in shoes that are a few sizes large. Magnus kneels on the ground next to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Max,” he closes the book at last. “What’s yours?”

Magnus smiles. He inches over slightly and runs a finger under his name on the paperback cover in Max’s hands. Max blinks twice, then looks up at him in an awe that is oddly refreshing- he’d never had a child be excited to meet him.

“You’re the author!” Max exclaims. "I think this story is really good."

Magnus nods. "Where did you get this?" _Raveners_ wasn't appropriate for children.

“It was in my Dad’s box. I don’t think he read it.”

 _And I don’t blame him_ , Magnus thinks, facing the ground.

Max mistakes this for disappointment. “No no, I meant because he died last year. He left behind this small box of his books and stuff.”

Magnus looks up. “Oh dear. I’m sorry, Max-”

“It’s okay. I don’t really remember him.”

That was the saddest statement he had ever heard. It had been conveyed so causually. Magnus considers hugging him as silence smoothes over and is broken quickly.

_"Max!"_

Down the path that is lined with trees, a lone figure of someone is running through. Magnus takes one look, and feels himself melting onto the sleek black. 

Of all the people on Earth, it was _Tall, Dark and Handsome_ , in the flesh, with the soft eyes and concentration he'd already been dying to see again. Max, still beside him, stands up hastily and is scooped into his arms. 

"Where have you _been?_  Izzy couldn't find you, we've been so-"

Max tries to wrestle out of his grip, babbling crossly. Tall, Dark and Handsome turns to Magnus, sees the lavish manor behind him, and puts two and two together.

"Sir, I am so sorry about my brother, he-"

"I didn't do anything!-"

"No no no, he's been nothing but lovely!" says Magnus, placing a hand on Max's shoulder. Max reaches back. "We had a good conversation."

Tall, Dark and Handsome relaxes visibly. He licks his lips once and nods. 

"I'm glad. We're sorry for trespassing; we'll leave-"

"I'm Magnus," He extends a hand. "I don't think we've been formally introduced."

 

++ _

 

Alec's mouth falls open. He gets a proper look at the man in front of him, and he is absolutely _gorgeous-_ he is very well-dressed, reminiscent of the wealthy patrons that he'd see occasionally at the restaurants he'd worked at. His hair is done in stylish spikes _,_ even with streaks of red, and his eyes are lined darkly. It suits him very well. 

"Alec," he mumbles, quickly wiping a free hand on the back of his trousers and taking Magnus'.  "And I see you've met Max," He very much hoped his face wasn't turning red.

Magnus nods, smiling. Alec's brain turns to jelly. 

"I'm hungry," says Max suddenly. Alec nearly jumps out of his skin.

"I can offer you some food," Magnus chuckles politely, gesturing to the manor. "I currently do not have a cook, so we order from Boston, but there's plenty-"

"Oh no, we can't possibly- I mean- that's very kind of you, but we can't- we have food," says Alec.

"No we don't! We're starving because Sebastian is mean and steals our money!" Max shouts, turning around to face Magnus. Alec moves to steady him, eyes widening. Magnus raises an eyebrow. 

"Sebastian?"

"Our landlord- Max, stay _put-_ and he doesn't _steal_ our money, we _pay_ him because we live in his building-"

"He's mean though," Max's voice drops to a whisper. "Don't think I didn't see that yellow note-"

Max doesn't continue when he sees the look on Alec's face. Alec is all smiles again the next second, albeit somewhat off, beacuse _shit, Max knows,_ and he certainly didn't want this... beautiful stranger's sympathy, but _screw it, screw it-_

"Some food would be great," he tells Magnus. 

 

++ _

 

Alec and Max sit in an impossibly large room that is dressed to the nines in finery- four _,_ perhaps even five of their piss-hole flat could fit into this room. A bespectacled butler had ushered them in, and rushed off to pour them drinks.  Alec feels unbearably self-concious, perched on the edge of the sofa, while Max gets up to explore the room, mouth open. This house was a new world. 

The butler returns, Magnus in tow, clutching a well-wrapped bag. Alec feels his heart leap into his throat on sight of that bag- it is fit to burst with food, who knows how much, and they would _all_ eat well tonight. Sebastian be damned.

But what on Earth- Magnus was being so generous. He gulped a breath of nervous air.

"Thank you so much-" he chokes out, "But-"

Magnus takes his hand and passes him the bag with a firm tap.

"I insist. Think about this little one-" he gestures to Max, who has downed his glass of ice water- "and yourself, of course."

Alec is speechless again.

Max places the empty glass on the butler's tray. "Magnus, what other books have you written?" 

Alec jolts at Max's use of Magnus' first name, but Magnus doesn't even seem to have noticed. He smiles again, and Alec feels his chest constrict.

"Just some stories here and there," he replies vaguely. "I'm glad you like my work, Max."

Alec sits upright. "You're a writer?" 

Magnus turns to him, eyes wider; his small smile for Max turns into a boyish grin. "Yeah, of a few things-"

"A few _great_ things!" The butler exclaims, breaking his silence. He adds: "Have you seen today's newspaper? He's in it again _-_ "

"Simon!" says Magnus. Max looks down at his paperback and up at them again, entranced. 

Alec stares at Magnus, perhaps in disbelief- whoever Magnus was, he was something much better than whatever he was. And what a job he was doing of it too, being so unconditionally kind and funny and not minding. Plus, he wrote _books-_ successful ones at that. He takes a long sip of his own ice water as the butler prattles on. He'd given them food, but there was no such thing as a free lunch. He gets an idea as he sets his glass back on the tray. 

"Thank you again," says Alec, getting his attention. 

"Not a problem, Alexander." 

Alec blinks. "Just a guess," says Magnus quickly. "Is it-"

"Yes," Alec nods. "Just one final thing, if that's okay?"

Magnus leans forward. "Anything."

"You said you currently do not have a cook?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to update ASAP. 
> 
> And I love reviews :>


	4. Chapter 4

Izzy cries out when Alec and Max step through the door. She immediately embraces Max, eyes reddish from rubbing at them fiercely.

 _“Why did you run off?”_  Izzy says suddenly, jolting, hands gripping Max’s shoulders.

“I wanted to read,” Max begins, after a pause. He looks at the _Raveners_ paperback that is squashed between them.

“ _What?_ Why- why did you go _outside,_ then?”

“I can’t see the words. It’s too dark here,” says Max, in a tone so innocent that Izzy looked frightened. A thorn of guilt pierces Alec.

“The lights don’t always come on and I’m too short to reach the window-”

Izzy pulls him close again, hiding her face in his shoulder. Alec is itching to tell her that she doesn’t have to, but-

Jace appears next to him, breathless from running. He takes one look into the flat and drops face-up against the doorframe.

“Max,” he says in a sigh of relief, “You nearly gave us heart attacks. _Never_ do that again, little man, you hear me?”

“Sorry,” says Max, as he scrabbles to get out of Izzy’s grip. “But guess what? We have good news- _actual_ good news while we were outside!”

Jace lets out a low grunt. Izzy draws back in surprise.

“What good news?”

“We’re going to live in this super big house-” Max gestures wildly- “It’s really fancy too, with its own forest road and nice water-”

“What the fuck,” Jace whispers. Alec smiles at him vaguely. “Is he okay?”  

“Yes,” says Alec.

“-and a nice waiter and stairs and-”

“Max,” says Izzy, in her most cautious tone, “We have no money. We can’t afford a place like that. And-” her eyes flicker to Alec and Jace. Jace turns his gaze away slowly, but Alec’s smile grows wider.

“We have new jobs.”

Izzy’s mouth falls open. Jace shoots up, stumbling onto his feet and closing the door shut.

“ _Actual_ jobs? Not like errands or something?”

Alec nods firmly, turning to Izzy. “You too. I mentioned that you used to be a secretary.”

She takes a moment to rise to her feet as well. “How? Who-” She glances at Max, then Alec again, and perhaps her hand is shaking. “How?”

“We met Magnus Bane!” Max pushes the book towards her. “I talked to him, so did Alec, and he gave us food-”

“Gave us _food?_ ” Jace asks incredulously, and notices the bag that Alec’s holding. He cannot contain his grin. “That’s really great, but _how_ -”

“And we have _jobs_ out of this?” Izzy is holding her head.

“I’ll explain,” says Alec, as he sets the bag on their table and starts unwrapping it.

“Also,” he adds, feeling Jace and Izzy’s gapes of disbelief on his back, _and what a glorious feeling it is_ , “Pack your things after dinner.”

 

++

 

The Lightwood siblings stand on the pavement outside the main door at dawn, and the bastard landlord is still drunk on the top floor. Alec had all of them to pack as lightly as possible, desperately not wanting to impose on Magnus. He’d shared Robert’s old packing case with Jace and Max, stuffing it with clothes they’d tried their best to wash before the water supply shut off for the night. Max insisted on carrying the _Raveners_ paperback in his hand.

“What is _he_ like?” Jace asks suddenly, as more day starts to break and catches Alec by surprise.

Alec thinks hard. “Nice.”

A pause. “Quite magical,” he adds, in a quieter tone.

“Huh?”

“Uh, nothing.” Alec turns his gaze away. Jace shrugs and reaches to hold Max's hand.

Izzy finishes combing her hair and slides the brush into the pocket of her skirt. She looks around nervously. “Are we too early?”

“Maybe,” says Alec. “He said that he'd coming for us-”

“Are you sure?”

Alec gulps. “Yes, well, he’s probably a busy man, and-”

There is a loud honk before he finishes. An elegant automobile stops next to them. Alec moves a step closer, and the bespectacled butler from the mansion peers at him through the window, mouth in a nervous sort of grin. Alec smiles back awkwardly, not remembering his name.

“Hey! Alexander and the Lightwoods, right?” says the butler, opening the door.

“Yes," says Alec, relief blooming in his chest. "Hi."

The butler nods and steps out. "Sorry I'm late. I had to, um, settle something.”

"That's okay," Alec begins to say, but the butler strides past him and picks up theirs and Izzy's packing cases, moving them to the back of the vehicle with a fluid ease. Alec turns to look at Jace, whose mouth is open in surprise. The butler seemed such a twig. Izzy is smiling, one hand on her cheek.

"If we're lucky, we'll be able to get there just before the food delivery truck," says the butler, as he opens the backseat door and gestures for them to board. "Have you had breakfast?"

 

++

 

The butler drives to the front gate. Alec does a double take and Max is nudging Izzy and Jace in the shoulders, “I told you! I told you!”

The manor is painted in a shade that looks like gold. There are ivy trails creeping up the walls and a _fountain_ right in the middle of the sprawling yard, a grandly carved stone pillar in the center. Alec’s throat goes very dry.

Izzy insists on carrying her own case when the butler pops the boot open. Jace is still holding Max’s hand, possibly more to reassure himself. The huge door swings open slowly-

This room was even _bigger_ than the one Alec and Max had been in only yesterday, and Max had been right- in the center of the sparkling marble floor was a huge, polished staircase with plush crimson carpeting running down the steps. Alec feels his head spin, giddy with excitement. He knows that his jaw has dropped and clattered on this beautiful clean floor of the wealthy, but makes no move to pick it up. Nobody else was here to see him look this gormless, anyway-

Alec jumps when Magnus enters the corner of his eye. He hastily covers his mouth with his hand, mortified, yet amazed- it was barely morning, the sun had only been up for a bit, and this beautiful man was more beautiful than he had been yesterday, looking absolutely divine.

Alec pulls himself together as Magnus welcomes them and ruffles Max’s hair. He looks around the majesty he’s surrounded by again, noting detail. The ceilings were so high, the doorways all humongous. He was under the vague impression that there was magic lurking around. There was no way that something this wonderful was happening to them.

A small redheaded girl saunters in, interrupting.

“I cleaned the entire kitchen!” she says jubilantly. “Within an hour too! How’s that-”

She nearly walks right into Izzy. She goes as red as her hair.

“This is Clary, my trusty right-hand woman,” Magnus announces. He gestures to a spot behind them. “And you’ve already met Simon-”

Alec turns around and sees the butler shutting the grand door. Simon waves. He looks younger than he had been in the car.

“I would’ve come to fetch you myself,” Magnus continues, smiling cheekily at Alec. “But Simon has, eh, forbidden me from taking the wheel-”

“And for a _good_ reason too!” Simon laughs, hands on his hips. Clary snickers and Magnus feigns embarrassment.

Alec isn’t sure what he’s seeing- no doubt Clary and Simon worked under Magnus, but the casual way they were conversing nearly unnerves him. Surely you didn’t joke around with your employers like _that._

So he decides to play along, managing a chuckle he so hoped was polite. “I won’t ask, then.” He is met with a nod from Simon, thank goodness.

He moves on, turning to Magnus. “Sir, as I mentioned yesterday, this is my brother Jonathan-” he motions to Jace, who is blatantly staring at Clary. He moves over confidently.

“He can do a variety of work, from the kitchens to moving heavy objects-”

“Pleased to meet you!” Jace blurts suddenly, with his hand out. Alec shoots a discreet glare of warning at him.

Magnus gives Jace a once-over and shakes his hand. "A pleasure," he says, and Alec exhales. Magnus waves in Izzy's direction. "And this lovely lady must be-"

"My sister Isabelle," says Alec. It is only after Izzy reaches out to exchange handshakes as well does he realise that he's interrupted Magnus. _Oh god, nothing was going to plan._

"Thank you for the opportunity," Izzy says. "I will do my best."

"Thank _you_ for taking it," Magnus replies. Alec heaves another sigh of relief. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out to be more of a... bridge chapter. Or a filler. More story to come. 
> 
> And thank you so much for your lovely comments! They absolutely make my day. X)


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s barely seven.” Clary walks up to Magnus’ desk, where he is perched with a glass and newly opened bottle of Cutty Sark. Her hands are on her hips. Jocelyn had never truly approved of drinking in the morning, either. After she’d left, he’d only taken the secret morning bottles out twice, so far- the first being after Simon had dropped off all the mail and the empty stack of writing paper that still haunted his drawer.

“It’s happy hour somewhere in the world, my dear,” says Magnus. He hiccups once.

“Did you even sleep?”

“Yes. Well, I think.”

Clary moves closer, until she is standing right over him. “You amaze me. You’re already all dressed up for them.”

“First impressions matter!”

“Didn’t you meet them already?”

“Only _one_ of them,” says Magnus. His voice goes rogue and it comes out all dreamy, sweet as a simpering lovesick child. Clary remains unfazed. She takes the Cutty Sark and caps it. It takes a moment for Magnus to realise.

“Clarissa!” He gasps.

“I believe you’ve had sufficient,” Clary swiftly swings it out of his grasp and makes for the door. “I will be hiding this.”

Magnus pouts, sinking deeply into his chair. “Meanie.”

_ _

Their kitchen is a mess- Clary hadn’t gotten to washing the plates they used last night, the cutlery drawer is messy, and the windows are grubby. They had barely entered the kitchen since Jocelyn’s retirement, but somehow the tiles are shiny with grease.

Clary is in the middle of scrubbing the window panes when Magnus strides in, whistling, the keys to the car in his hand.

Simon comes running into the kitchen, skirting around the table, sliding in front of Magnus and finally standing between him and the back door as a human wall, hands stretched out to either side. Magnus rolls his eyes.

“I had only one glass!”

“That’s all I needed to know!” says Simon. “I’ll pick them up, hand me the keys-“

“Oh, come on!”

Simon stands his ground, lips pressed firmly together. He bore a striking resemblance to a stubborn duck. Magnus laughs in defeat. He slips the keys into Simon’s hand, and within a half-second Simon is back into full butler mode, hurrying out the door. Magnus watches as he darts down the veranda and rounds to the front of the manor, where the car is parked. He lets out a sigh, and Clary touches his shoulder as a gesture of comfort.

“Hey,” she says, as his friend. “Nerves?”

Magnus nods. Clary is sure it’s because of the lack of inspiration he’s had- she’d seen his frustration in the discarded profile sketches he’d left all over his desk- but now she realises that Magnus is worried about these new people.

Whoever Magnus had met, they’d certainly made an impression.

_ _

The new secretary is the splitting image of her brother- Tall, Dark and Handsome, that is. Isabelle is beautiful, and Magnus wonders for a moment about what she’d been like before the Depression as well. According to Alec, she’d been a top student who hardly ever read fiction, so he apologised in advance if she wasn’t familiar with his work. Magnus is secretly relieved.

Jonathan- _Jace_ , he clarifies, isn't good at reading and is more hands-on. His features are gruffer close up, and his eyes dart every so often. Magnus chooses to believe that he's simply taking in all the details of his new environment. And Max- Max is simply euphoric. He is holding Jace's hand and _Raveners_ in the other, starry eyes tracing the carpet trail up the stairs and to the upper floors. Magnus isn't sure what he'd been so nervous about-

"Sir," Alec says, his hands together. "If possible, I'd like to get started as soon as possible- uh, I mean, whenever you would like me to." 

At this, Jace and Isabelle position themselves next to him, their postures so upright that they look like a military lineup. Max joins in as well, puffing his chest out. Magnus half-expects him to salute. 

"Not when you've barely set foot in here!" He chuckles. These Lightwoods were acting as if their jobs were already on the line. "It'd be terribly improper of _me_ to get you all cracking immediately!"

"Yeah, Simon and I are gonna show you where you're sleeping," adds Clary.

Simon nods. "And of course we'll have to show you around. Now, I’ll-"

Magnus reaches his shoulders in a quick grab. "How about you let me do that?"

Simon blinks. He looks in the direction of the Lightwoods, and back at Magnus again. He smirks. 

"I mean, _Magnus_ will show you around the house," says Simon. Alec gulps visibly. Max lets out a cheer. 

_ _

Their first stop of the tour is none other than the precious library, of course. The walls of three connected rooms are fully-stocked bookshelves, all arranged according to genre and subject. In the middle of the first room is a love seat with a lamp next to it. A minimalist luxury, but the Lightwoods eye it as if it were a golden throne.

"Wow! Did you write all these?" asks Max, gesturing to the walls of books.

"Just those on that bottom shelf," says Magnus, gesturing to the wall at the end. Alec walks over to it and bends down, and the way his eyes look stir something in Magnus' chest. 

"Are we allowed to read them?" 

The question takes Magnus by surprise. He doesn't realise he's just been staring until Alec gets up, looking almost a little frightened. "Sir?"

"Oh, yes, of course! Read anything you'd like! I'm sorry, I... spaced out." 

"That's okay, I space out a lot too," says Jace, casually pulling a book out. Alec's eyes narrow towards him, but soften as he turns back to meet Magnus' gaze. 

"Thank you," Alec smiles. It is infectious. "You're truly generous, Sir."

"How is this all sorted?" Isabelle asks. "Is there a specific order I should take note of?"

"Ah, yes," Magnus turns, his face flushed with sudden warmth. He hurries to the wall of shelves nearest to the door. "This entire section here is non-fiction, starting with History, all seven contitents, then this section is of, ah, Culture-"

Alec is now at the shelf opposite them, eyeing the row of Jocelyn's handwritten recipe books. Magnus had insisted on cataloguing them and shelving them as an act of rememberance for her, even though she'd laughed and called him funny. Alec takes one off the shelf and starts reading through it, that splendid concentration back in his eyes again. 

_ _

Magnus locks himself in his study after showing the Lightwoods around. His heart is oddly light. For a moment, it makes him gloriously happy, and he throws the curtains open, only to reveal a grey sky. Masses of dark clouds hang above the many trees, which shake to and fro. The window is shut and he cannot hear the wind, but he imagines that right now, it is howling like a hungry wolf, snapping at leaves and branches and darkening the place where the Lightwoods had called home just a few hours ago. 

As if on cue, Alec appears in the back corner of his mind, all frantic over the possibility of a lost Max, the dirt on his neck and Max's sooty ankles very noticable and stark. He remembers that Max's shoes looked a bit large on him, and makes a mental note to get him new, good ones. And Alec-

Alec turns and stares at him for a moment, perhaps apprehensively. Max says something about a yellow note and about the despicable, money-stealing landlord. _Eviction,_ Magnus realises. The voice in his mind states it like a gasp.  _Who the hell would be so black-hearted to evict them?  Especially when they had a small child with them?_

It begins to rain. Magnus faintly hears footsteps running past his door and Clary shouting about the laundry that's still outside. Magnus jolts back when a flash of lightning illuminates the room in a white wave, followed by a clap of thunder. Alec has turned away, Max in his arms, and is walking off. Out from the many trees, back into the bleak world of cobblestone and misery.

But he gives Magnus one last look, and a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's bloody heartbroken about the Constantin statement? :) GaaaaaahHhHHHhHH!
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to my dear friend XL, for taking away my phone and making me focus on my work instead. You da real MVP in keeping me grounded. *salute*
> 
> (Ironically i still wrote this chapter.)

The new bedroom is also bigger than their entire flat. The fact that there was still enough room for Simon's bookcase, desk, dresser _and_ that there was still walking space amazes Alec greatly. The room is only still about three quarters full, even with the three extra beds. 

"Sorry it's such a mess." says Simon. 

"Are you kidding?" Jace is overjoyed. "You should've seen our old house, it was a  _good_  day if we didn't wake up to bugs’ corpses all over the floor-"

"I'm gonna jump on the bed!" Max says excitedly. 

Alec grabs his hand swiftly as he darts forward and gives him a shake of the head. Max pouts.

"Alright, so this is the main light here-" Simon flicks a wall switch on. The room floods with light, and looks unbearably, cosily opulent. The window is wide and beautiful. The wall is richly wallpapered in a light blue that Alec doesn't even dare touch. 

"No need to be scared, nothing bites," Simon jokes, seeing Alec's twitching. He gestures to the beds, all lined up against the wall. "That one next to the desk’s mine. You guys can pick any one of these three." 

"Dibs!" Jace drops the packing case on the middle bed and lies down. Max climbs over him, giggling, and rolls onto the bed to Jace's left. 

The only empty one is closest to the door, and Alec lays himself down experimentally. His eyes widen in surprise as he sinks into the cloud of a mattress, which also smelled  _great_. He'd had to share the mattress at the flat with Jace, and it constantly reeked of dust and damp whenever they slept in their work clothes. This mattress is covered with sheets that makes roughness a distant memory, fresh and cool like that of a clean bath-

Alec jolts to his feet and quickly swipes at his new sheets, even though they are immaculate. "Get up," he tells Jace and Max. "We're not clean, we can't soil our sheets-"

Jace sits up, surprised. He peers at his arms and trousers. "I  _am_  clean."

"We haven't had proper showers."

"Alec-"

"And we need to get unpacked, the master's giving us a tour, right?"

"Alec."

"We can't keep him waiting." Alec gives his sheets a final hit, and his voice grows firmer.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes. Of course. He's being very generous. Let's go."

Jace rolls his eyes as Alec makes for the door.

++

"Sorry to have kept you waiting,” says Alec, as he approaches Magnus down the hallway, Jace and Max behind him. He comes to a halt when he sees that Izzy is there, in conversation with Magnus. 

"Not at all, it's important that you settle properly!" says Magnus, in such a polite and tolerant tone. "I hope Simon's room isn't too cramped?"

"Nope!" Max pipes up. "It's  _amazing._ "

Magnus grins. "That's good! And you, Isabelle? Is Clary's room to your liking?' 

"My  _liking?_ " Izzy looks stunned. "Never mind what I  _like_ , I'm just grateful that Clary's willing to share her room!" 

Alec pictures Izzy in her new bed, smiling into a clean pillow, a quilt of some sort at her feet. He smiles to himself. 

++

Of course Magnus has a library- and what a library it is. It is obviously a very dear place in his heart, and Alec is determined to appreciate it. Each archway led to a new room with nothing but walls and walls of books. This library is strangely well-lit and pleasant-smelling, despite its lack of windows. There is one stepladder in every room, leaning against the furthermost shelves. The main room housed an exquisite leather chair that looked like it would crinkle once you sat down, and an equally beautiful lamp. Alec imagines Magnus poring over these many books in that chair, the leather pristine under him. 

"Wow! Did you write all these?" asks Max. 

"Just those on that bottom shelf," says Magnus, gesturing to the wall at the end. Alec decides to see for himself. 

The shelf is almost completely full, and all of them are thick and bound in glorious velvety book jackets. He counts nineteen books in total, and the titles fill him with an awe from a dream:  _Warlock Marks. Demons of Brooklyn. Shadow World. Cat's Eye. Descent into Edom-_ this beautiful man had an imagination that breathed fire. He can feel the flames at his feet, sneaking up his legs. 

"Are we allowed to read them?" Alec asks, prepared for Magnus to say no because they were here to work. 

Magnus doesn't respond, but Alec can feel his eyes on his back. He gulps hard and stands upright hastily. "Sir?" 

"Oh, yes, of course! Read anything you'd like!" says Magnus. He scratches the back of his neck. “I'm sorry, I... spaced out."

"That's okay, I space out a lot too," says Jace, putting his hand on one of the books and pulling it out. There is still dirt under his fingernails, but Magnus is still watching, so Alec shoots Jace the quickest look of y _ou can't even read._  

Then he turns to face Magnus. "Thank you. You're truly generous, Sir."

Alec's heart swells when Magnus smiles back at him- it is a lovely smile, a sincere one too, the right amount of everything. Alec tries to remember what it looks like, and fights to remember his place. 

"How is this all sorted? Is there a specific order I should take note of?" asks Izzy. 

Magnus turns to her and says something he doesn't hear. He nods and turns away as well, secretly relieved. The whole time, he'd been worried about knowing too little. He'd been working in and out of different kitchens for almost three years after Black Thursday, but felt that his repertoire was limited to slap-up Chinese food and the occasional pastry. There _had_ to be cookbooks in this humongous library. He thinks about asking Simon or Clary in private, but speak of the devil,  _there they are_ -

A whole row of thin notebooks, titles embossed on their spines in bright black. Alec scans the entire shelf, and believes that he has struck gold. There is one on Indonesian cuisine, one on different kinds of cakes, one on French cuisine, and one on how to prepare meat. He wipes his hands on his shirt and pulls that one out first, ever so delicately, and opens it. A flowing, neat script explains on how to cook steak- with additional instructions marked under "MAGNUS:".

++

"What have you got there?" Alec looks up and sees Clary leaning against the doorframe. 

"Cookbook," mutters Alec. "Why? Am I not supposed to take books out of the library?"

"Not at all. Magnus says we can read  _and_  take whatever we want," says Clary. She adds: "Since we all live in the same house, that library belongs to all of us."

Alec isn't sure what to make of that. Perhaps he is oddly surprised. 

"What does Magnus usually eat for lunch?" 

"My mom usually made him mango sticky rice. During cold or rainy days she'd make him something hot, like, ah, meat porridge."

"Your mom?"

"Jocelyn." Clary grins and taps her finger on the spine of his book. Alec turns it around, and sees the name embossed just below the title. 

An idea pops into his head. "Is she still around?"

"She doesn't live here anymore, but Magnus pays for her place nearby. Why?"

"I think I'll need tips," Alec averts his gaze and flips the pages of the book. "She's... obviously far more experienced than me."

Clary's chuckles are interrupted by a flash of lightning. The rain comes down fast. 

"Shoot, the laundry!" she says, before taking off down the hallway. She shouts for Simon to close the windows. 

_ _

By noon it is still raining, and Alec is in the kitchen, holding one of Jocelyn’s recipe books as a pot of water boils. A package of oats sits next it. Magnus has to admit that he likes his initiative.

 Alec doesn’t see him standing in the doorway. He puts the book down, combs through the cabinets, opens the doors and sifts through. _Cripes, had Clary told him where everything was put yet?_ It was a large kitchen, after all.

Something about his movements are fascinating. He is not like Jocelyn, speedy and fluid, making a simple swoop for a pan hanging on the rack and pouring sauce with a flourish. His movements are very much muted, but filled with that graceful concentration.

Alec opens a drawer near the sink, then another. Magnus steps into the kitchen. “What do you need, Alexander?”

Alec jerks upright. “Uh, just a cutting board,” He closes the drawer. “Sir.”

Oh dear. “Please Alexander, call me Magnus. We don’t stand on ceremony here.”

Alec blinks, seemingly flustered. “That’s- not proper. I work under _you._ You’re- 

“That doesn’t make you any lesser, you know!” Magnus chuckles, getting more and more concerned about Alec’s mentality. Goodness, who on Earth put _that_ into his head?

Alec seems momentarily lost for words. He turns to the stove for a quick second and turns it off. Magnus worries that he’s been too blunt.

“I wondered why Clary and Simon were on first-name terms with you,” says Alec. “And it doesn’t bother you? At all?”

“Why should it? We’re the same,” Magnus smiles with mild relief. “I don’t want to pass up a good opportunity to have good relationships just because of… you know, the master-servant dynamic or whatever it is. I find it rather unnecessary.”

Alec smiles back, but with uncertainty. Magnus can feel something in his chest slip, like a screw falling out of its proper place, now just waiting for the structure to fall.

“Okay,” Alec says quietly. “If that’s what you’d like me to do. _Magnus.”_

Magnus feels his heart quicken. “Thank you, Alexander.”

“You can just call me Alec.”

“Oh?” Magnus smirks, raising an eyebrow. They’d gone back to square one in just two minutes. “Don’t you like Alexander?”

“No one really calls me that.”

“Really? I can’t imagine why. I think it suits you! Just like Alexander the Great.”

Alec lets out a self-deprecating snort, to his surprise. “Well that’s a shame.”

“Hm? How come?” 

“Because I’m Alexander the Not-So-Great.” 

Perhaps Magnus wants to laugh. He isn’t sure what to make of Alec. This had all been just plain unexpected, to say the least. 

“Um, Magnus,” says Alec, now sounding a little frightened. “Can we, uh, just pretend I didn’t say that?” A deep blush seeps into his face. “I’m so sorry, I-“ 

“Don’t be!” Magnus is suddenly aware that he’d just been staring. His hand hovers above Alec’s shoulder for a moment, and then rests there. “Never be afraid to speak your mind with me. We’re the same, remember?”

Alec looks at Magnus’ hand on his shoulder. Then he nods. 

Magnus adds: “And for the record, _I_ think you’re pretty great. You’ve taken such great care of your family.” 

Alec’s expression softens, and that slipping feeling in Magnus’ chest starts up again.

“Thank you, Magnus.” says Alec, whispering his name, and it sounds absolutely heavenly. It is the only way Magnus ever wants to hear his name being called. 

Magnus nods. “I’ll leave you to your cooking.” His head motions to the pot. “What are you making?”

“Clary said that you ate porridge whenever it rains, so… that.” says Alec. “Or do you want something else? I can do that.”

“No, no, it’s fine!”

“Alright,” says Alec, turning back to the drawers in search of the cutting board. Then he turns back to Magnus.

“I- Thank you. You’re really nice, and you’re… really nice to talk to.”

“Back at you, Alexander.” Magnus smirks. “And I really do mean it when I say it suits you.”

Alec is a mixture of smiles and wonder. Beautiful. “I’ll be Alexander for you, then.”

Magnus gives him a final pat on the shoulder before turning to leave. “By the way, check the cabinet near the pantry,” he says. “There’s a stack of them there.”

_ _

The Lightwoods stand around awkwardly as Clary passes out bowls and spoons, even little Max. Magnus looks at them in astonishment. "Come on, sit anywhere you like."

"What?" asks Jace disbelievingly. "I mean... what?" 

Magnus tilts his head, confused.

"It is presumptuous if we sit and dine with you, Sir," says Isabelle. She shifts backwards as Simon moves next to her and takes a seat. Her mouth is open in what seems to be surprise as Simon folds his napkin over his lap. 

"Hm?" Simon looks up quizically. 

Jace looks at him, then at Magnus. "Uh-" 

"Sit down, guys!" says Simon. 

"Are you sure?" asks Max. 

"How else are you gonna eat? Here, you can sit next to me-"

Max glances at Isabelle. She looks as if she's been forced to swallow stones. Max drags the chair out gingerly and squeezes into the narrow gap between the plush cushioning and the edge of the table.

Magnus beckons to the two remaining Lightwoods from where he's seated at the head of the table. "We eat together everyday! No formalities!"

"We don't-" Clary puts a hand on Isabelle's and Jace's shoulder each, and steers them into the chairs on either side of her "-stand on ceremony here."

"Alright!" says Simon. He reaches for the ladle that's in the large, steaming bowl of meat porridge. 

"Hang on," says Magnus. "Where's Alexander?" 

Jace gapes. "Huh? He let you call him Alexan-"

 _"Jace!"_ hisses Isabelle. 

"I think he's still in the kitchen!" says Clary. 

"What! I saved him a seat-" Magnus gets up and scurries out the dining room. "-Alexander!"

_ _

Alec is perched at the stove, scooping porridge from the pot hungrily when Magnus locks eyes with him. He freezes before setting down his spoon and standing in a frenzy, hands behind his back. He blushes as if he'd been caught doing something heinous. Magnus feels himself going pink as well. 

"There you are!" says Magnus loudly, all too aware of how red-hot-embarrassing this all was. 

"Here I am," Alec looks like he wants to be shot. "Are you looking for something?"

"Yeah, _you,"_ Magnus says, matter-of-factly. "We can't start lunch without everybody present at the table."

"What? It is presumptuous if I-"

"Your sister used that _exact_ word, you know!" Magnus chuckles, and so does Alec, albeit a little shakily. The tension has lifted off just a bit, thank goodness. 

"I mean it though," Magnus resumes. "I want everybody in this house to dine together. Come and join us."

Alec's mouth forms the shape of a protest, but it is never voiced. He averts his gaze for just a moment and looks back. And there it is, a lovely smile. 

"Okay," says Alec. He tugs his apron off and folds it into a pile on his stool. Magnus feels his heart speed up. 

_ _ 

"Hey Magnus," says Simon, through a mouthful of porridge, "Rapahel wants to know if you're free next Saturday." 

Magnus looks up. "Ah, I think I'm expecting a few calls. Isabelle, my dear, if you'd answer those for me-" Isabelle nods "-and swallow _first_ , Simon." 

Simon nods, already getting another spoonful. Alec eyes him with an odd surprised look that Magnus finds very cute indeed. And to top it all off, the porridge was _marvellous_. 

"Alexander, this flavour is perfect," he remarks. 

"Yeah!" adds Clary. "How'd you do it?"

 Alec's modesty appears on cue. "I, ah, followed the instructions?"

"My mom never made it like this," says Clary. "Its good different, don't worry!" 

"You see? What's your secret?" asks Magnus.

"I mixed in brown sugar," says Alec, smiling again. Magnus can't help but feel a little proud. "It's a tip I got off one of my old head chefs. I've been doing it ever since."

"Sweet!" Simon lifts his bowl and finishes off his portion. Jace looks at him for a moment, and starts doing the same. Isabelle chuckles when Max follows suit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Cat's Eye](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/51019.Cat_s_Eye?ac=1&from_search=true) is an actual book by the legendary Margaret Atwood. I had to analyse an excerpt for Literature once.


	7. Chapter 7

In the early evening, someone knocks sharply on the main door and snaps Alec to attention. He rushes down the rest of the stairs and opens it.

A pale young man in a crisp suit stands before him.  He raises an eyebrow at the sight of Alec. Alec tries very hard not to mind. He was still in the clothes he’d worn since dawn, plus the mildly greyish apron he’d gotten from his Jade Wolf days. He gathers himself to greet him.

“Is Simon around?” asks the man in a low, stoic voice.

“Oh yes,” Alec opens the door wider. “I’ll fetch him, if you’ll just come in…” 

The man nods. He strides past Alec and turns towards the main sitting room. No need to guide him then, Alec thinks, as he climbs the stairs again to the room.

“Simon, someone’s here to see you,” he says, tapping the door lightly. 

There is a rustle of sheets. Simon is relaxed at the foot of his bed with his shoes off and tie undone, newspaper in hand. “Oh? I wasn’t expecting anyone. Who?”

Alec bites back a groan. He had forgotten to ask for the man’s name. Of all the careless- 

“He’s, uh, he looks about your age. Ish.  And he’s kind of… pale.”

Simon snorts. “Raphael.”

“Oh,” says Alec. He briefly remembers that name at lunch. “Your friend?”

“Yeah,” Simon rolls the newspaper up and sets it on his desk. “For a long time now. Is he in the main room?”

+ 

The young man- Raphael, is perched comfortably on the sofa. Simon, still in his socks and undone tie, waves as he strolls down the hall. An elegant smirk appears on Raphael’s face as he gives one back. Alec dismisses his thoughts and makes for the kitchen as Simon takes a seat on the ottoman across him.

“Alexander! How nice of you to drop by!” 

Alec freezes in his tracks. He turns and sees Magnus sitting at the head of the coffee table, glass in hand, one leg crossed over the other. Something about it flusters him. 

“I was just leaving,” he says, gesturing vaguely. “Dinner will be ready soon-“

“Oh, don’t worry about that! Come join us. Here, we have a guest too- this is Raphael, a friend of ours,” Magnus waves a heavily ringed hand. “Raphael, this is Alexander, our _amazing_ new cook.”

“Hey,” Raphael sticks out his hand. Alec takes it as he sits, small as possible, next to Simon.

“So, how’s it been?” asks Simon. “You’re early.”

“I know,” says Raphael. “ _She_ was throwing another hissy fit, so I put extra whiskey in her pudding. It worked faster than I’d thought.”

Magnus lets out a chuckle. “Oh, you lot haven’t changed at all!”

_ _

Raphael covers his mouth in a snicker. Simon sticks out his tongue. Alec’s lips press firmly together and his hands are in his lap.

“Alright, alright, moving on,” says Magnus, setting his glass down. “Sorry Alexander- now, Raphael wanted to ask if we were all free next Saturday to attend this poetry recital in town. I’d like to ask if you want to come along.”

“What? Why me?” asks Alec. “No, wait- I meant, I’m honoured you’ve thought of me, but I don’t know anything about poetry.” His cheeks flush pink. “I won’t be able to appreciate any of it.”

“And that’s _fine,_ ” Raphael swoops in, smirking quickly at Magnus. He rolls his eyes and picks up his glass again. “We go every month, and there’s always new people there who just come for that great sense of community. And it’d be a good chance to bond, won’t it? 

“Ah. Yes.” 

“Plus, Magnus likes you.” adds Simon.

Magnus chokes on his drink. Raphael turns his gaze to him, looking highly amused. The confused blush on Alec’s face travels to his neck.

“Oh! Well, I- I’m truly flattered,” says Alec. Magnus feels his limbs going woozy. Raphael reaches across the coffee table and lightly smacks Simon on the knee, sending him squealing.

Alec shifts himself to face Magnus. “Are you okay?”

“Ah, yes,” says Magnus, wiping at the corners of his mouth. He can see Simon and Raphael leaning across the table, mischievously whispering.

“It’s okay if you want some time to think about it, _Alexander_ ,” Raphael says with a knowing smile. Simon makes a face from trying not to laugh. Magnus musters what’s left of his dignity into a half-warning glance. How dare they gang up on him _now_ , of all times-

“Yes, just tell me if you’d like to go before then,” says Magnus, grin reappearing.

“Okay,” says Alec. “Thank you for the offer.”

Simon nudges Raphael and quirks his eyebrows. Raphael brings his hand to his chin and strokes it cheekily.

“I hate you both,” Magnus says in a low grumble after Alec leaves for the kitchen, pouring himself another great helping of drink. Simon and Raphael laugh heartily. “I’m never trusting you two with my secrets ever again.”

“ _Secret_ ,” snickers Raphael. “That’s quick.”

“Well, we had to provide _some_ kind of explanation!” says Simon. “It _is_ a little out of the blue to ask your cook out to a poetry recital, isn’t it?”

_ _

In the dead hours of night Magnus awakes from a dream of Simon and Raphael pouring bottle after bottle of whisky into a bottomless pudding mould. The moonlight casts the same cross-hatch cage pattern over his sheets. He pulls on a robe and hurries quietly to his study, yanking the drawer open. The untouched stack of paper is still there, the thinnest layer of dust visible on its surface.

He looks at it for a moment. There is an odd guilt in his chest. It made him want to look away and walk, to anywhere.

He closes the drawer. He considers getting out the secret bottles again, but Clary had taken away the prime Cutty Sark, and he was probably left with nothing but substandard champagne. Magnus’ sigh is almost shaky.

He crosses the hall that leads to the kitchen in silence and darkness, only dim moonlight beams for company. It is a rare thought of Magnus’ to think that the manor is too large for him, but here it is.

Simon’s door is ajar and brighter than the corridors, and Magnus can make out the shape of Max on Jace’s chest. It is a comforting image and he feels his head grow clearer.

Clary is predictable; always hiding things in the kitchen because none of them frequented it anyway. She’d once gotten angry with Simon and hidden nearly all of his books under the sink. That was probably where that precious bottle was now, and he can taste the familiar tang of it -

Alec is standing right over the sink, eating out of a bowl.

Magnus can’t help but stare. Alec doesn’t use the spoon that he’s holding. He lifts the bowl up and drinks from it, something like milk running in streaks down the sides of his lips. Magnus’ cool silk robe turns warm and confining. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Alec turns just a bit and nearly drops the bowl when he sees Magnus standing in the doorway. It takes a moment for Magnus to realise that the look on Alec is one of mortification and he tears his gaze away, almost as a gesture of respect.

“Magnus, I- Max got up and said he wanted some cereal, and I was- I was just testing if the milk was too hot-“

Magnus remembers Max asleep on top of Jace, but is more taken aback by the sudden fear in Alec’s face. His eyes are glazed over with unnecessary shock.

“I tried drinking some to check, and- um-“

++

“Alexander,” Magnus says, holding his hands out. Alec inhales deeply and gives a shuddering exhale, hating how pained he sounded. It was so unseemly.

“You can take whatever you want from my hands, wear my clothes, and steal my money if you wish,” says Magnus. “But never _lie_ to me. Do you understand?”

It is Alec’s turn to be astonished. He’d scrunched up his ribs and the flesh around his heart for an instant dismissal. He doesn’t dare relax, for fear of how much it was probably going to hurt if he did. What on earth-

“I understand- but you’re… not going to _fire_ me?”

“Why would I?” 

“I did something wrong.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow. “I would hardly call _feeding yourself_ something wrong. You don’t need my permission to eat, Alexander.”

Alec hangs his head and nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Magnus starts to say, but it comes out as a low gasp when Alec raises his head. His tears have flowed. They gather in small drops and stream down one cheek. Alec blinks quickly and swipes it away.

Magnus raises a hesitant hand up and runs his thumb over the corner of Alec’s eye. The touch is cold from the metal of Magnus’ rings, but unspeakably _lovely._ Magnus’ hand is soft.

“Don’t be,” he repeats with a warm firmness. “And go to sleep, alright?”

Alec is lost for words. He sniffs once and nods again. “I’ll just wash up first.”

Magnus removes his hand slowly, relishing in the ghost of touch. His heart is still wild as he makes to leave.

“Hang on, Magnus?” Alec asks.

“Yes?”

“About the poetry recital- I’ll go.”

Magnus smiles. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, Alexander.”

“Oh, and…one more thing?“ 

“Of course.”

“Do you still like me?”

Magnus nearly jumps a foot out of his skin. 

“No, wait, you don’t have to answer that- uh, please pretend I didn’t say that-“

“ _Of course I still like you,”_ says Magnus, willing his heartbeat to calm down, “I like you a lot.”

Something about his statement makes Alec want to burst out laughing. Perhaps of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to end this chapter on a (mildly) disturbing note to make up for the lightheartedness on chapter 6, but the story did a thing of its own, so here we are :p I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> (And I love reviews! They inspire me. X)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I'm making this up as I go, and I have exams coming up.

Magnus walks down the dim hallway and ducks into his study, leaving the door wide enough for his eye to see through. He notices the damp of sweat on the back of his neck for the first time, unsure if it’s from his robe or from whatever it was that was spurring his heart rate like a mad drum.

A beat, then another, and then Alec’s tall figure emerges from the kitchen. Magnus waits for him to move, but he seems to be frozen, seemingly- holding himself.

He moves a moment later, stepping into Simon’s room. Magnus closes the door and the top of his head drops silently against the wood.

The familiar scent of ink and Cutty Sark fill the air in the study, but it is somewhat interrupted and Magnus can’t really make heads or tails of it. A silver of the moon is visible through the window. Magnus sees it and thinks- Alexander. Mouth open, milk down his chin, exquisiteness in its first, truest form. 

He sits down at his desk hurriedly and puts the light on with one hand, scrambling through the drawers of rough paper with the other.

++

“ _Of course I still like you_ ,” Alec repeats to himself in the dark, his body shrouded in the sheer wealth of soft mattress. Maybe he’d write it down on paper for himself. That way he’d be able to read it over and over again.

His eyes prickle, but he makes no move to wipe them and they do not flow. He smiles instead, the kind of smile he’d never make to himself in the mirror, but here it is- and for the first time he is unabashed. Alec slips his hand from under the covers and reaches to touch his own face, the part that Magnus had- and for some reason the skin there feels softer, cleaner even, a part that had never experienced Black Thursday and the painful knuckle of poverty.

_ _

Magnus mutters a long string of curses. A slosh of champagne hits the glass and some splatters on the browning sheets of paper and envelopes. His insides felt like they would explode.

He takes a look at what he’s written so far, and it is a bloody mess. He can almost hear a high laugh behind him, one that he thought he'd long forgotten about. He tries to put it out of his mind. The words are his, just like always and before, now baffling and reluctant. He can’t bring himself to write at all, forget writing about Alec. It would be a whole new level of disrespect.

++

Alec wakes up before everybody else, hand still on his face. The sun is muted and the room is in the dream-light of early day. He is filled with a feeling he does not have a word for as he sits up and looks through the window. Jace and Max are still soundly asleep next to him, comfortable at last. Magnus’ words resound in his mind and eases all the tension in his shoulders. Maybe he’d make them all bacon and eggs for breakfast.

A week passes and routine is kept. Alec browses Jocelyn’s recipes religiously and takes notes of every section marked “MAGNUS:”. Jace comes to the kitchen to help out, but spends most of his time gawping at Clary through the window. Alec laughs at Jace’s embarrassment whenever she notices and crosses her eyes in return.

Izzy is kept busy handling mail and Magnus’ properties- Alec can barely believe how many  _other_  houses he owns-  including an entire  _restaurant_  that she makes regular trips to in Magnus’ place to oversee operations. She’d returned once, slightly drunk, pumped full of roast duck and lemon crème.

Max and Simon had grown as thick as thieves. He’d recite passages off books to Simon as he organised the library, and there would be laughter. Izzy went in to see what was going on, and ended up joining in. Alec has never been prouder.

And Magnus’ presence was a certain bonus, even though it was the one thing Alec could almost never really get used to. He’d emerge from his study and come to the kitchen to have a chat with him, and the simplicity of it all was delightful, but-

I honestly have no idea why you come to speak with me.” Alec finds himself confessing while slicing up a radish. “I don’t really have anything interesting to say.”

Magnus blinks. He moves a step closer to the kitchen island. “Why?”

“I’m sure  _you’ve_ got a ton of fascinating, uh- things to talk about,” says Alec, changing the subject. “You write those stories.”

“Ah,” says Magnus, almost a groan. “You’ve read those?”

“Not yet. I’m sorry.”

Magnus sighs of relief. Alec stops what he’s doing and turns to him.

“Would you like me to?”

God,  **no** , thinks Magnus. Alec would never speak to him again if he read those. Maybe he’d hate him so much because of it, and poison his food.

“I won’t read them if you don’t want me to!” says Alec quickly. He sets the knife down on the chopping board. Magnus then realises he’d been dead silent. “I understand.”

“Oh, no,” says Magnus defeatedly. “Read them if you want. I’m just- no, it’s fine. You can go ahead.”

“ _You_  can go ahead and tell me what’s on  _your_  mind,” Magnus is taken aback. Alec’s eyes are clearer up close. “That’s what you told me to do with you. It’s only fair if you do the same.”

Magnus breathes in deeply. Alec feels his heart skip a beat.

“Are you sure?” asks Magnus, his voice low.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” sighs Magnus. “Writing is personal, no doubt, and mine is no exception. It’s just that- now that I look back, I see that I’m a very…  _different_  person from when I wrote most of my work. In short, it speaks badly of me. Perhaps not as a writer, but as a  _person_.”

Alec’s brow narrows slightly.

“You won’t like me at all if you read those,” says Magnus in a half-chuckle, dropping his gaze to the floor. “You’d see the absolute worst. You’d probably wish you’d never met me.”

A beat of silence. “I’ve always dreamed of meeting someone like you!”

Magnus looks up in surprise. Alec has moved closer.

“You probably get that a lot, with all those people- your fans- who, you know, write to you,” says Alec, eyes flashing. “But the past is over. You may have been different in the past, but this… right _now_ , I mean. You’re a good person. You are so kind.”

For a moment, the entire manor is hollow- nothing exists but them. No doubt he'd received letters from adoring readers, full of praise and how much they wished to meet and know him. It’d been such a joy before Magnus had realized that they only knew him from his stories- the part of him who was the author- and from the looks of their letters, they were only interested in meeting that part of him alone. Alec hadn’t ever read anything.

“What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t let the past get the better of you,” Alec continues, voice firmer, yet more comforting. “You can write new things! Things that suit you better and reflect on how you're like now. As a person.”

Magnus blinks. His first instinct is to burst out laughing in Alec's face. But he doesn’t- the way Alec’s put it makes that awful night a week ago seem almost… hopeful. All part of the process.

He nods. “That’s very well-said. Thank you, Alexander.”

Alec smiles and returns the nod. He moves to resume his slicing of the raddish, but stops halfway. “Sorry, I forgot to ask- what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“The, uh, poetry recital. It’s on Saturday, right? It’s Saturday tomorrow.”

“Oh! Yeah. I can lend you something if you like.”

Magnus basks in Alec’s immediate pink blush.

++

When the day is over, Simon and Max pass out the second they get into their beds. Alec closes his eyes, but opens them again as Jace’s hand gently grasps his wrist.

“I think I like Clary,” Jace whispers, eyes fixed on the dark ceiling. “I wanna ask her out.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “So why don’t you?”

“What if she says no?”

“You’re afraid of her rejection?” Alec snorts softly. “Who are you and what have you done with Jace?”

Jace chuckles back, moving his hand and swatting Alec in the ribs. “She’s just,  _really_  pretty _,_ okay? And she makes me  _nervous_. I can barely look at her without my heart- “Jace makes a wild gesture on the top of his chest - “you know.”

“I know.”

Jace slides his hand back around Alec’s wrist. The ceiling is actually not that dark at all, because the moonlight from the window is streaking in perfect lines over it, like cuts in prime meat. It is the same moon from before they lived in this beautiful manor, but Alec waits for the lines to edge themselves further and  _crack_ , and drip blood all over them. He closes his eyes again and breathes out.

“Magnus asked me out.”

“Huh?” says Jace. “Sorry, didn’t catch that-“

“Nothing. I misspoke.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Jace is silent after that, and Alec keeps his eyes shut firmly. It is only when the grip on his wrist slackens does he open them. Jace is asleep, and Max has shifted again- he is curled in a ball in the center of his bed, legs tangled in the blankets. His pillow is far away and crooked, slightly dark-

Alec sits up stealthily and slips his wrist from Jace. There’s a hard, dark wedge of something peeking out of Max’s pillow. He shifts himself over and reaches for it.

 _Raveners_  peers up at him in a bold, nearly imposing font. Magnus’ name is printed at the bottom in a similar fashion, but smaller, as if hoping to disappear amongst the silence of the cover. He slides off the bed with only a rustle of sheets and moves to the window, where the light is strongest.

The paperback has the thickness of a cutting board. Alec licks his lips once as he opens the book to its first page-

 

_For Camille-_

_With all my love._

Alec reads it a second time. Then a third. The book closes with a snap.

_ _

Magnus has a glorious time dressing Alec up in half his wardrobe, though Alec eventually settles for a simple combination of an unadorned shirt and jacket, with trousers that are cuffed just above his ankles. There is unquestionable purity in the sight of Alec barefoot in his dressing room, head to toe in his clothes.

Simon, of course, interrupts barely a moment too soon with a whole stack of shoeboxes in hand, clambering for Alec to take his pick. He looks at them all with an expression that makes Magnus feel as if he should be taking notes for writing reference.

_ _

At sunset they leave through the back door, through the path of trees and sleek black road that shortcuts them right into the city. Magnus lets Simon take the lead so he can walk with Alec. He chuckles quietly as he steps onto the cobbled path.

“Penny for your thoughts,” says Magnus.

“Oh, I just thought- well, it looks the same,” Alec gestures to the buildings, some boarded up and grey. “I guess with how my _own_  life has changed for the absolute better… I just thought all this might be different, too.”

He chuckles again. “Sorry. I know it’s been only a while. I’m just being, eh, foolish. That’s probably not even the right word. But that’s what’s on my mind.”

Magnus smiles.

They arrive at the market area, where the crowd has dimmed because the sky is darkening. A slight chilly breeze sweeps across their hair and faces. Simon throws his hand up suddenly and gestures for Magnus and Alec to follow.

Standing under a flickering lamppost is Raphael, in yet another suit, and a lady in a thin coat. Simon lets out an excited shout as he runs up to them. He gathers the lady’s hands in his and pulls her into a hug. Her face comes into full view: a soft smiling face framed by dark curls.

“Maia!” says Magnus, catching up. “Long time no see!”

“Magnus?” she says. “Is that really you?” Her eyes crinkle as Simon pulls away to hug Raphael.

“In the flesh,” Magnus says coyly, dropping to a bow. Maia opens her arms again.

“Hey, Alec,” comes Simon’s voice. “Meet another friend of ours-“ Magnus steps to the side. “This is Maia, and she works alongside Raphael. Maia: Alec, our  _splendid_  new cook.”

“Hey,” Alec extends his hand. Maia looks up at him, surprised, and gives him a friendly nod as she takes it.

“Hey,” she replies. “I’m also a cook.”

Alec’s eyes light up. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice. Where do you work?”

Maia pauses, taking a quick glance at Raphael. Magnus senses her tension in himself as well. “Just like you! We work in a household,” she says quickly. "But we're _not_ going to discuss my work, it's my day off!" 

The two of them share a hearty laugh.

++

The venue of the poetry recital is a modern-looking restaurant with a queue of both couples in evening wear and young children in caps and their parents’ shoes at the front. A good-looking man stood at the podium, directing everyone inside. Maia waves at him, and he responds with a smirk, hand on a velvet rope.

“Move along, Alec,” Simon nudges. Raphael gives him what seems to be a genuinely friendly smile and pats him on the back. The people in the line gape at them- but how could they not? Magnus is in the lead, absolutely stunning. He keeps his eyes to the front, suddenly aware of his looming height over the four of them.

“Magnus,” says the man at the podium. He unhooks the velvet rope.

“Hi, Meliorn!” Magnus grins, and gestures for the rest to follow. Inside it is dimly lit, but wallpapered in a rich yellow that brightened the room by itself. A stage with a jazz band stand neatly at the back of the room, between two large French-style windows. Alec is not prepared at all.

“Welcome to Pandemonium, Alexander!” says Magnus, fingertips on Alec’s shoulder.

_ _

The band onstage play their last refrain. Gretel, the announcer, thanks them as she gestures for the waiters to start with the main course. She announces the name of the first reciter, and there is applause while silver platters of chicken and confit vegetables are delivered to every table. Magnus claps at the end of each poem, thanks the waiters who refill his whiskey, and insists on everybody ordering dessert (on him, of course).

Halfway through his fourth glass, Magnus looks up, but everything is hazy, and the reciter's voice is a loud blur. 

"Magnus, are you okay?" 

"Um, yes," he mutters, unsure of who he's replying to. A hand covers his on the table, as if to steady him. It's Alec's. Magnus raises the glass to his lips so quickly he nearly spills. "Alexander."

Alec's eyes follow Magnus' glass as he sets it on the table, seemingly narrowed. 

"I think you've had a bit too much," Alec whispers. "That was your last sip, alright?"

Magnus nods, his head down, blinking rapidly as Alec pushes it towards the center of the table, clinking it against the vase centerpiece. It is deafening against the reciter's voice, a searing pain at the back of his head. 

"Alexander darling, if you'll excuse me-" Magnus shifts in his chair -"I need the bathroom-"

"Of course," says Alec, already moving out of the way.

Magnus nods and calmly makes his way through tables, dinner carts and waiters, and the door of the empty mens' room. He locks himself in the first cubicle and drops to his knees, nearly knocking himself unconcious on the rim of the porcelain.

 _Maia,_  he thinks.  _What did she have to_ do _in order to come out tonight?_ He chuckles a little at the thought of her emptying half a whiskey bottle into the pudding mould as well, before heaving another wave of acid and whiskey-dinner. He stays very still, trying to control his breathing, and prays that nobody enters-

There are sharp footsteps on the wet floor tiles, followed by a knock on his stall door. 

"Magnus?"  _Raphael._  Magnus exhales, shuddering. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine-" Magnus laughs, hoisting himself off the floor. "I just had too much."

Raphael makes a grunting noise. "Can you walk?"

Magnus grabs a handful of toilet paper and wipes his mouth. "Yeah. Why don't you head out first? I'll be right with you-"

" _No_ ," says Raphael, almost a shout. "I'll wait. We head back together. I think we need to talk-"

Magnus doesn't hear the rest over the clack of his shoes against the base of the toilet as he scrambles to bend down, heaving again.

_ _

Raphael is too worried to scold him when he emerges from the cubicle, and insists on leaving as soon as possible. They've barely made it back to the table before noticing Maia on stage, Simon gesturing excitedly. 

"She's written her own poem!" Simon whispers. Raphael stares up, depositing Magnus back into his seat. 

Maia clears her throat. "Hello," she begins. "My name is Maia Roberts, and this is my poem-" she produces a folded piece of paper from her coat - "its title is ' _Wolf'_. I dedicate this to my friends from work and to Luke, Pandemonium's talented head chef, for encouraging me to write this."

Some of the audience clap. Simon stands up and throws his arms up in a cheer. Raphael rolls his eyes at him, but focuses back on Maia with a smile. Alec's turned his entire chair towards the stage.

Maia takes a breath, and begins- her poem is full of vivid imagery, sharp syllables that flow dangerously. She plays with her sentence structure, packing just the right amount of weight into each verse. Magnus flinches when she moves her hands and forms grand claws, just like her wolf, and delivers her final stanza.

Pandemonium is silent as she lowers her hands, breathing just a little faster into the microphone. Magnus' mouth is slightly open. He recalls that exact breathing from her, while she crouched in that grimy kitchen alcove. She'd been struck in the ribs for bringing the wrong glasses to dinner table, but insists to Magnus that she's _fine, fine, fine_  through a quiet film of tears. She'd laughed at him for being so worried. _I'm stronger than her,_ she'd said, _and so are you-_

Alec rises from his seat and starts clapping. So do Simon and Raphael. One by one, the guests clap, even the snobbish ones who'd eyed them funny when Meliorn had let them cut in front. Maia's face softens into a smile that made Magnus' eyes prickle with absolute pride. He stands too, and applauds.

_ _

Simon is squealing and hanging off Raphael's arm as they exit. Raphael looks at him, then back at Magnus, annoyed. Magnus doesn't care. He reaches for Maia. 

"That was... _amazing_ ," he begins. "You had _everybody_ in your grip."

Maia laughs, shrugging. "I learn from the best."

"Ah, I see-"

"You do know that I mean _you_ , right?" Maia says quickly. "I still have all of your books. Raph too." 

Magnus isn't sure what to make of that. His head and throat sting. "Thank you," he says, smiling just a bit. Maia smiles back.

"I'm _really_ proud of you," Magnus continues. "You should write more."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely. Feel free to bump me off _New York Times'_ Best Seller List."

Maia laughs louder.

"I'm serious!" says Magnus. "You _could._ "

Maia makes a show of tapping her chin, as if she were considering an offer. "Maybe- oh, hey, Alec!"

Alec emerges from the throng of exiting guests queing for taxis and getting onto bikes. Maia gestures for him to come over.

"Hey," says Alec. "I was just using the bathroom. Are we going now?"

Simon bursts out in tipsy laughter. Raphael grabs his arms quickly to steady him. "Yes," Magnus sighs. 

"Maia," Alec says suddenly. "I thought your poem was really special- it was like a powerhouse. You were the best one up there."

"Thank you," she replies, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I liked it too!" Simon sings, swooping in and pecking her on the cheek. Raphael forgets to be angry for a moment and chuckles, though he shoves Simon onto Alec. 

_ _

Alec is silent the whole way home, gripping Simon's elbow as he kicks up a storm and whistles radio tunes. The chill of the breeze lasts larger and longer, and Magnus is dying for a rest. The inside of his mouth has a horrid taste to it. 

"Magnus," Alec whispers as they turn down the path of trees. "Are you okay? You're... very quiet."

Magnus nods quickly. "I'm just tired. Don't worry about me."

"I can't not worry. You look peaky." Alec pauses. "I'll make you something to warm you up."

_ _

The window is open in his study, and the curtains are billowing. The breeze is pleasantly calming, ice against the heat in his head. Magnus sinks into his study chair and closes his eyes. The wind whispers words from Maia's poem, Simon's jazz verses, Alec's promise of hot chicken soup, and Magnus shuts them all out with a slight pang of guilt. 

The knocks on the door sound out of nowhere and Magnus nearly bolts from his chair. A gust of breeze sends some of the loose papers flying. "Come in," says Magnus, as he scrambles to catch them.

Isabelle enters, notebook in hand and already dressed for bed. It dawns on Magnus that they'd stayed out quite late, and hoped that Maia and Raphael had made it back without mishap.

Isabelle gathers the papers that are on the carpet and stacks them back onto his desk. "I thought I'd update you about your calls," she begins. "There were just two while you were out."

"Ah, okay."

"The first was from your editor Ragnor," she says, opening her notebook. "He asked to meet you next month for discussions over tea."

As much as he loved Ragnor, the nagging for a new book would definitely ensue. Magnus has the fleeting thought of slamming his head into the desk. 

"Okay. I'll check when I'm free and get back to you."

Isabelle nods. "The second call was from a lady, but she's not any of the ones in your phone book."

Magnus looks up. "Pardon?"

"I asked her name and looked through the phone book thrice, but couldn't find her. She asked to meet you as soon as possible for dinner, and hung up before I could ask her for the venue."

"Oh dear. Don't worry, I'm sure if it's important, she'll call back. Now what did she she say her name was?"

"Camille." 


End file.
